The Suffering (The Girl from the Well #2)

I replay what the kannushi said to his daughter before she…


I lug out all of Kagura’s research materials from the trunk and dedicate myself to rereading them. I still can’t do much with Kazuhiko’s books that Kagura hadn’t translated into English, so I go through all the notes I can decipher. I tackle Hotoke’s diaries, analyzing every detail and looking for anything that feels out of place.

I slog through the research I’d glanced over before our trip to Aitou—the herbal properties of belladonna, various traditions of ritualized marriages, silkworm farming, the use of bridal dolls. I look through them so many times that I’m sure I’ve committed the documents to memory, but I’m still at a loss, and I’m frustrated.

Auntie senses that this kind of insanity is a lot better than the anguished madness I’d been wallowing in. She says nothing about this new obsession and instead brings me meals and tea without prejudice.

I tackle Kagura’s notes on The Book of Unnatural Changes next, and it takes me two more days to find what I’ve been looking for.

***

Kagura and Callie finally arrive home a few days later. A few eager reporters are still trailing behind, hoping to score an exclusive interview, and for the first time, I see Auntie transform from considerate innkeeper to protective she-wolf. Whenever one of the journalists or cameramen venture onto her property, the normally quiet old woman goes marching out, waving her broom—or in a few humorous instances, wielding a long garden hose turned on at full blast—and shrieking Japanese invectives that even the mostly foreign correspondents have no trouble interpreting. They’re quick to hurry away before she can soak their perfectly coiffed hair and their equipment.

“Are you okay?” is Kagura’s first question to me. Other than the sling over her arm and the faint bruises on her face, she looks the same as ever.

I force a smile. “I think I should be asking you that question.”

“You should have said something, Tark,” scolds Callie. Kagura must have told her everything in the hospital, because Callie is clearly sidestepping around the Okiku issue when she would normally be asking me for details. “It’s okay. I’ll survive. Auntie’s got a feast laid out for all of us. She’s really excited that you’re home, Kagura. She’s been cooking all day, and she even talked me into helping out.”

Both women look mystified by my change in attitude, but they’re wise enough not to comment on it for the moment. I make a show of ushering them to the dining table, where Auntie is waiting. For once, Auntie has forgone the traditional meals. Instead of the typical kaiseki fare, she’s cooked up a storm of Japanese street food—fried takoyaki dough balls with bits of octopus, yakisoba noodles literally made from scratch and hand-pulled, and grilled chicken and beef skewers with sweet, green bell peppers and spring onions in her specially made sweet sauce, as well as plump green-tea mochi cakes. She’s also prepared an assortment of sushi with flying-fish roe and slices of fatty tuna and finished it off with bowls of steaming rice topped with grilled eel—a favorite among Japanese schoolchildren but also Kagura’s, Auntie explains, as the miko reddens.

The mood is equally festive. With Auntie around, we don’t talk about what happened in Aitou. Kagura fends off most of Auntie’s questions, leaving out mention of the village completely. Instead, she talks about wandering around the woods for days after being separated from the rest of the group, relying on her survival skills to forage for food and ration the provisions she had the foresight to bring. She found me, and then Riley, shortly before the search party located us. It’s enough to mollify Auntie, and I’m relieved we don’t have to explain further.

Callie is not as trusting. Once the table has been cleared and Kagura and Auntie have retired to their rooms, she pounces. “Kagura told me everything.” My cousin is becoming teary-eyed again. “Oh, Tark, I’m so sorry.”

I force a smile. “You’ve always been after me to de-possess myself, Callie. Now that I have, it sounds like you’re actually wishing I hadn’t.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Tark. I wanted it to be amicable for the two of you—not like this.” Callie sniffles. “What’s going to happen next? Where did she go?”

My voice catches in my throat, and I can’t speak right away. I think about the fireflies and the bridal ghosts in the meadow, happy and free. But Okiku was different. She hadn’t rejoiced at achieving the peace she deserved. I do not want to, she said. But I must.

Rin Chupeco's books